


Welcome to the Distraction of the Destruction

by hi_irashay



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Book Spoilers, Generally I'd just file this under FEELINGS HOUR, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Alternating, Post-Book(s), Sorry Not Sorry, as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7771816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hi_irashay/pseuds/hi_irashay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I never knew I had this much in me.  How much time has passed?  Surely I’ve been here for hours.  Years.  18 years of borrowed - no, stolen magic shouldn’t be effortless to give back.  And yet it flows out of me as if that’s all it ever wanted to do.  Which, now that I think about it, might be the truth.</p><p> </p><p>(An expanded and generally Feelings-ed version of the end of the book for those of us who are always wanting more!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to the Distraction of the Destruction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nitpickyabouttrains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitpickyabouttrains/gifts).



> Because SOMETIMES a girl has to write a fanfic of a fanfic… of a fanfic. Amirite? It’s kind of a more Feelings-y character study/version of the end of the book + adding on some more, so, yeah! It hopefully goes without saying that Rainbow Rowell owns all of these characters and much of the spoken dialogue in this fic.
> 
> Written for my beloved @nitpickyabouttrains as a very merry PETALS gift. I never would have read any of these wonderful books without you, I am eternally grateful for your love and friendship <3.
> 
> Title (and not much else) from here = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9BcA-DQhrAk. STILL LISTEN TO IT THOUGH, as it’s a great song ;-).

_**Simon**_  
I never knew I had this much in me. How much time has passed? Surely I’ve been here for hours. Years. 18 years of borrowed - no, stolen magic shouldn’t be effortless to give back.

And yet it flows out of me as if that’s all it ever wanted to do. Which, now that I think about it, might be the truth.

Is this what catharsis feels like? Is this freedom? Does the Mage finally understand as he stands there watching? As the magic leaves me I feel lighter and heavier in equal measure. I’m viscerally aware of more people in my vicinity, and almost instinctively I know it’s Baz and Penny. It’s fine, let them see. They have a right to closure, after all this time.

_Not too much longer now._

The light is growing brighter, its sharpness causing the lines of the Humdrum to fade in comparison. My hands struggle to find purchase as his corporeality diminishes. I send one last burst of magic, a final pulse into the void, and darkness falls.

 

 _ **Baz**_  
_Merlin, no._

Simon is face down, motionless, bathed in silver.

_Snow, stop. It’s not funny._

The Mage - how easily I had forgotten about him - is also motionless. The moonlight reflects off of his shocked expression, and off of the pools of blood mixed with broken glass. Bunce begins to whimper beside me, breaking the silence that is soon after completely shattered by an unearthly wail.

As the tightness in my chest grows, I realize that the wailing is coming from me.

_Simon, please._

 

 _ **Simon**_  
_Is it over?_ I hear a howl, a sound of sadness and desperation, but all I can see is darkness. It must be over.

It isn’t until I feel hands on my shoulders and back, shaking me with increasing violence and urgency, that I realize I’m still alive. _The Mage._ I lift an arm to fend him off when suddenly he’s not there anymore. The howling has stopped and is replaced by a low rumble of a snarl. _Baz._

“No,” I shout. Do I shout? It sounds like a whisper. A forest of legs surrounds me, disorienting me momentarily as I use the legs to pull myself into what I hope is a vertical position. The Mage has his wand out, pointed straight at Baz. I react without thinking and move it to point towards my heart instead. _That should stop him._

It doesn’t.

“No, stop!” Can they hear me yet? This shout sounded stronger to me, but the Mage keeps advancing and Baz keeps engaging him right back.

“Give it to me!” The Mage snarls, spit flying out of his mouth. He still doesn’t understand.

“It’s gone! It’s all gone!” I cry. The Mage’s wand might be the only thing keeping me upright, I have so little left in me. _Oh, Baz, I have nothing left to give._

The Mage’s expression radiates disdain and disbelief. “Give it to me!” he shouts again, as if I’m the one who isn’t understanding what’s going on. I gasp as he digs his wand - my lifeline - deep into my chest. Baz growls at my wince and pulls at the Mage’s hair to get him off me.

“Stop!” I cry. “It’s gone! It’s over!” Why don’t they get it? I hear Penny’s voice, coming through distorted and scattered. _Penny, make them see._

I try again - “ **Stop it, stop hurting me!** ” The words feel so different in my mouth, thicker and brighter. Magical. Which is impossible, because the magic is all gone.

The Mage stops suddenly and I think he must finally have heard me. With shock in one eye and fear in the other, he crumbles into Baz’s arms.

 

 _ **Baz**_  
Did the Mage swoon? I felt the magic too, though I noted that it didn’t feel like Simon’s... but swooning? Couldn’t have picked a more inopportune time. Oh well, one less thing for us to worry about right now.

I let the Mage fall to the floor and reach for Simon, but he’s already on his knees clutching at the Mage. His voice is bordering on hysterical as he calls out to Penny. _No, it can’t be..._

Bunce crawls over to investigate, and Simon’s panicked voice cuts like a knife through my mind.

“But I didn’t mean to kill him!” Simon says, his expression one of pure devastation. Did Simon really kill the Mage?

I find that I don’t care. That Simon is alive, that I am also alive - that’s all that matters right now. My mind whirs to catch up and I realize the unintentional chain of events. “ **Simon says** ,” Bunce had said, and Simon had been yelling at us to stop. _Oh, Simon, you beautiful imbecile._

“Technically, it was Bunce who killed him,” I offer, trying to be gentle. Trying to soothe. I find that I cannot stand to see Simon like this and feel tears prickling my eyes. Hasn’t he been through enough?

Apparently not.

“He’s dead,” Simon states. “The Mage is dead.” I feel a sorrow so heavy I fear we’ll break right through the floor to the chamber below.

 

 _ **Simon**_  
My head is spinning, though my mind feels clear. It is empty of all thoughts except for the singular notion that the Mage is dead.

_No._

The Mage is dead, and I killed him.

_No._

The Mage is dead, I killed him, and Penny might be my accomplice.

_No._

The Mage is dead. Baz is here.

_Yes._

It feels right to cover the Mage up, he shouldn’t be left out in the open like this. I realize I know nothing about magickal funerary practices and am unsure if covering a wizard is some sort of slight to the community _. Now’s not the time, Simon._ I’ll ask Penny later.

The tears return after I drape my jacket over the Mage, but this time Baz is right there. He holds me and tells me it’s OK. I feel his hands at my back, in my hair. I focus on that sensation instead of on his words, which are coming through as scattered and distorted as Penny’s had earlier.

“I gave him my magic, Baz.” I feel compelled to explain what happened to the Humdrum, to me. I owe him that much, and more. “It’s all gone.”

“Who needs magic,” Baz begins, but I lose the rest of his reply. Something akin to panic is welling up within me, panic with a strong draught of sorrow. Nothing will ever be the same again, and I can’t help but feel it’s all my fault.

And also, maybe I do need magic.

My shoulders are shaking with the effort of keeping it together. Baz is talking about turning me into a vampire. He waits for my reaction, his face earnest and expectant, and continues doggedly on when he doesn’t receive one.

“Think about it, Simon.” His hands are on my shoulders now, keeping my body facing him though I let my head drop and eyes cast downward. “Super strength. X-ray vision.”

Baz making jokes is just so abnormally normal that something within me cracks. I lift my head to respond - “You don’t have X-ray vision.” Baz’s eyes don’t leave mine as I take a deep breath to steady myself. “I killed him.” There’s blood on Baz’s face, but even more on my hands. We may never be clean again.

“It’s going to be OK.” Baz’s whispered words and strong arms wrap tightly around me. “It’s all right, Love.”

 _Love._ This moment is too much. The spinning finally stops and the crack within me breaks open completely.

 

 _ **Baz**_  
He’s a bloody idiot. I could not be more in love with him.

Simon’s always been a source of light and warmth, but never more so than when he’s in my arms. His radiance feels different now - softer, more tentative - but it warms me nonetheless. Simon pulls back after a while and it feels like the floor has dropped out beneath me. I pull back, too, and take the opportunity to survey the scene around us.

Bunce is still on the other side of the Mage, and beyond her lies Ebb. Simon looks like a lost puppy, kneeling here so dejectedly, smeared with blood ( _not his,_ I have to remind myself). His gaze keep darting between the Mage and Ebb, a million new creases forming between his eyebrows. I resist the urge to smooth them out with my thumb.

I have to feed. It’s been too long and there’s too much blood around to ignore it any longer. With a mumbled apology I take advantage of the myriad little birds, doing my best to shield my actions from Simon and Bunce’s view. I feel slightly more clear headed after, but not enough to know what we should do next.

With Bunce’s help, we try to revive Ebb. It’s no use, and I think Simon must have known that from the moment he saw her. His shoulders slump further and he refuses to meet Bunce’s eyes, nor mine. We do what we can to arrange her body in a respectable way, mine and Bunce’s magic too spent to do much else.

“I feel like I killed her, too,” Simon says quietly, gazing down at Ebb’s body. I notice his shoes are stained with her blood as he shuffles his feet restlessly. Bunce has wandered away and appears to be at her limit. I move closer to Simon as she sits down between the corpses, her eyelids drooping heavily.

“You didn’t, love.” The term of endearment seemed to have an effect on him earlier, so I try it again. His body spasms, but does not relax.

“What can I do now, Baz?” Simon queries, sinking back down to the floor. “What can I possibly do?” Even if I had an answer to give, I don’t think he would hear it.

I sit down next to him and take his hand. Even with everything that’s happening tonight - the fact that we’re in a secret room in Watford that I never knew existed, surrounded by death and destruction - the most unbelievable thing to me is the fact that Simon is letting me in.

 _We can be murderers together,_ I think wryly. The pile of birds that became my dinner is just visible in my periphery. _We can be…_ I remember a spell Fiona taught me when I was first made part of the football team.

“ **We can be heroes**.” I speak clearly, imbuing each syllable with every last molecule of magic I can muster. Simon gasps, letting me know the spell had worked. He sits up a little straighter and some of the creases between his eyebrows smooth out of their own accord. The spell has evolved over the years, with the modern day meaning far from what it had meant in medieval times. Without the need to fortify knights and Crusaders, the spell now serves to boost mood and confidence and decrease pain sensitivity.

It’s not much, not enough. I lean forward and press a gentle kiss on Simon’s forehead. I pull back slightly, meeting his eyes for a moment, before leaning in to kiss his lips.

It’s not much again, but it’s something. And Simon can have whatever I have left to give.

 

 _ **Simon**_  
The deep sigh Penny makes as she succumbs to unconsciousness is the first reminder I have of her presence in quite some time. I feel slightly guilty, but I know she would understand - she was right there with me, kneeling over the Mage, and she saw how it all went down. She saw the end of the Humdrum. She saw Ebb. Mainly, she saw me. The rise and fall of her chest assures me of her vitality. She’s alright, and so are we.

Baz’s spell (and his kiss) fortified me slightly, enough to feel able to look around at the destruction we’ve - I’ve - created. Everything is broken, from the windows to the bodies to ourselves. Several candle stubs are still smoking among strewn flower petals and pools of blood. A grisly scene overall. I shudder.

I turn back to Baz to find him regarding me with an unreadable expression. There’s blood on his face, obscuring some of the planes I’ve come to know well. For a moment I feel untethered - falling into the abyss, like I’m giving up my magic all over again. It all becomes too much again and I drop my gaze down to my lap.

I feel his hand under my chin, lifting my head back up to meet his eyes. They’re softer now, gentler and more open. His hand moves from my chin to caress my left cheek. I lean into it, grateful for the support. My head feels so heavy. My heart feels so heavy.

Baz puts his other hand on my right shoulder and gently tugs me down until we are laying side by side, facing each other. He never takes his eyes off of mine, and I find it helps me to stay present and grounded. His left hand is still on me, making soothing circles up and down my right arm. Several points of connection, his eyes and his hands, keeping me here. Keeping me with him.

I sigh. His hands feel like magic - could he be pushing me some of his? How else could I feel so different with just the brush of a hand, the caress of a cheek? The soft brush of lips? My forehead and lips tingle at the memory.

Maybe there’s magic in all touch. Anything feels possible right now. Must ask Penny when she wakes.

 

+++

 

** EPILOGUE - 1 year, 3 months later **

_**Simon**_  
I awake suddenly in a cold sweat. The Mage’s face had slithered to the surface of my dream, his accusing gaze ripping me from my slumber with violent force. My heart races and I’m breathing as if I’ve been running for the past several months. Not just running, but running away from something terrible.

The light in my room is soft and tinged with pink, reflecting the perfect morning outside. _It’s mocking me,_ I think, as I struggle to calm my racing heart and ragged breath.

I continue to lay in bed as my heart rate re-regulates, trying to sync my breathing with the gentle rustle of tree blossoms against the window. It was a trick my therapist had taught me, a technique to match my breathing to the tempo of my environment. It works most of the time.

Finally calm, I turn away from the window onto my side and come face-to-face with Baz. His eyes are open and he is regarding me calmly.

“It took you half as long to come down as it did last week,” Baz notes. “You’re improving.”

“Maybe I am,” I reply. We pause in the silence of the dawn for a few moments, breathing together in time with the breeze-blown petals against the window.

“Spring is coming, you know.” Baz struggles to keep his eyes open as he talks, his lashes fluttering against his cheekbones like hummingbird wings.

 _It may already be here,_ I think to myself as I reach out to pull him closer in response. He sighs contentedly and settles himself in, burrowing deeper under the blanket and nuzzling against my chest.

It’s early yet, and I, too, begin to feel a soft drowsiness creeping in. I turn my head back towards the window in time to catch the light changing from pink to gold with the sunrise. I tighten my arms around Baz and close my eyes.


End file.
